She jumped, her reaction drawing a mirth-laced chuckle from the boy. His lips lifted in a wide cheshire grin, tiny white teeth contrasting sharply with the dark mud ringing his mouth and hanging from his chin like a goatee. He beamed up at her, thoroughly pleased with himself.
He straightened, pulling his front half out of the mud and shifting his weight to his haunches - an action that earned him a gurgly squelching sound as the mud under his rump was compressed further. The thick muck dripped off of his belly and chin in gloppy rivulets. "I hate the way it feels on my fur," she explained. It did feel weird, didn't it? "It does feel funny," he agreed, "But I don't mind it. And I like squishing it between my toes!"
